Fuck this college and career shit. I'm literally a fae prince. A Tuathe de'Dannan. I shouldn't be doing math, I should be lurking in shadowy groves, crafting a guileful verbal contract that lets me steal the next passerby's birth name or favorite memory.
To settle a troublesome discourse, I have provided here the most faithful and poetic possible translation of the beginning of the Odyssey.
We male sex. We
complex. We
fake horse. We
off course. We
sail long. We
hear song. We
pig crew. We
home soon.
Putting together culinary experiences yall couldnt dream of. Drinking martinis and eating chicharonnes. First in my bloodline to do this shit, First in the world perchance. Bout to rip some tofu and palomas, someone's got to. Keep yall posted
The good part abt experiencing interpersonal suffering is when you realize you have in the past inadvertently inflicted a similar pain upon someone else &then the pain can take on a quasi-religious penitential character that feels almost pleasurable, like a too-hot shower
again as someone who has had 9 guns pointed at him at once, it’s really disorienting and they do genuinely truly give you conflicting information, one guy will yell at you to put your hands up and another will yell at you not to move the moment you do, if you fuck up you can die
Millennial food halls have a chokehold on me man. Drinking mead and listening to a guy play Willie Nelson on the guitar. The contradictions are imminent but the drinks are flowing. I think its gonna turn out okay man